Blood Like Poison (13 page)

While she was gone, I seized the opportunity to take in my surroundings. 

I was in a small bedroom with one window, which was covered in thick, black curtains that matched the comforter on which I was lying.  The walls were a medium gray and a plush black rug covered most of the shiny hardwood floors.

The colors alone made it clear that it was a guy’s room, but as I looked more closely, I could see hints of Bo here and there.  His black hoodie hung on the back of the door, a watch I’d seen him wear was thrown on top of the dresser, and his messenger bag lay in the floor by the nightstand.  

It was incredibly comforting just being in his room, in his bed, much more so than I ever would’ve imagined.  I melted into the mattress, turning my face into the pillow and inhaling deeply.  I could smell him as if he was lying right next to me.

Bo’s mother came back into the room carrying a bucket, a wet cloth, and an armful of assorted supplies.  I had to smile.  It was like the kit I kept under the sink for Mom.

She laid the wet rag on my forehead and asked, “Do you still feel sick?”

“No.  I think I just got up too fast,” I admitted.  “I’m sorry to put you to all this trouble.”

“You’re no trouble at all. I’m only sorry we had to meet this way,” she said.

I didn’t know how to respond to that.  Was that just a generic comment or did she know who I was?  Had Bo mentioned me? 

Warmth spread through me at the mere prospect of Bo telling his mother about me.  I have no idea why that would please me so much, but it did.

Since she hadn’t answered me the first time, I asked again, “Where is Bo, by the way?”

“He’s running an errand for me.  He’ll be back shortly to take you home,” she explained.

Thoughts of home made me remember my mangled face.  I reached up to touch my cheek again, knowing it had to be at least three different colors.

“How bad is it?”

A strange look flitted over her face before it smoothed out.  “What?  How bad is what?”

“My face,” I specified.

“Your face is fine.  Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Um, because Drew punched me.  Hard.  And I remember it hurting so badly that I thought my jaw was broken.” 

She was watching me closely.  “Well, it looks fine to me.  How does it feel?” 

Gingerly, I worked the joint.  It seemed stiff more than anything, but certainly not broken.

“A little stiff, but ok.”

“Good.  Maybe you won’t even have a bruise.”

“But how—” I began, but then remembered what I thought I’d heard Bo say.  “Did Bo—”

I stopped myself.  

Ms. Bowman’s eyes were alert and a tiny frown creased her brow.  “Did Bo what?”  The way she prompted me seemed a bit anxious.

What exactly did I remember?  Nothing that made sense, that’s for sure.  I could hardly admit to his mother that I thought I’d heard him say he’d heal me.  She’d have me in the ER getting my brain scanned as soon as I could say spit.

I shook my head, hoping it might rid it of crazy thoughts and half-baked memories. 

“Nothing.  Sorry, everything’s still a little hazy.”  I looked down, away from her perceptive eyes, and it was then that I noticed her clothes.  “Are you a nurse?”

She seemed puzzled at first.  “What?”  But then she noticed me looking at her scrubs.  “Oh, these?  No, I’m not a nurse.  I’m a lab tech and phlebotomist.”

“Phlebotomist?  Are those the ones that draw blood?”

“Yes, we’re the ones that draw blood,” she confirmed with a smile.

 We stared at each other for a few moments, silence quickly closing in and becoming uncomfortable.  I didn’t know what else to say and apparently she didn’t either.

“Well,” she said, rising to her feet.  “I’ll let you rest until Bo gets back.”  She walked to the door and then turned back.  “Is there anything I can get you right now?”

“No, thank you,” I said, feeling like enough of a bother already.  With a smile, Ms. Bowman disappeared into the hall. 

“Ms. Bowman?” I stopped her.  Though it was silly and ridiculous, there was one question I had to ask.  When she poked her head back around the door jamb, I stammered awkwardly, “D-did Bo mention me?”

She smiled again, but this time there was a hint of sadness behind the curve of her lips.  “Yes.”  Then, with no further explanation, she walked away.

Despite her strange reaction, my heart sang.  I lay there for the next few minutes, happily drinking in Bo’s scent and basking in the glow of this latest revelation. 

My stomach twittered when I heard him come in.  He asked, “Is she awake?”

I managed to sit up on the edge of his bed without getting sick, which I took as a good sign.  I smoothed my hair as I waited for him to find his way to me. 

Too quietly for me to hear, I heard him something else of his mother and then his heavy footsteps clonked toward the bedroom.  With every thump, my heart beat a little bit faster.  In a bizarre way, I could almost feel him getting closer. 

 When he appeared in the doorway, I couldn’t stop the smile that spread across my face. 

“Hey,” I said simply, feeling like a nervous schoolgirl with a crush.

He leaned one shoulder against the door jamb.  “Hey yourself,” he said with a casual grin that made my belly flip over excitedly.  “How do you feel?”

I shrugged.  “Fine.”  Actually, now that he was here, I felt better than fine, but I wasn’t about to tell him that.

Pushing himself upright, he crossed the room and sat down beside me on the bed.  I turned to look at him.  He was facing me and, therefore, facing the lamp.  The dim glow of the bulb illuminated his features and I was struck by how perfectly handsome he was.  Out of nowhere, desire curled inside me like a tightly-wound spring, making me breathless.

He reached up and stroked my cheek with his finger.  Unlike what I’d come to expect from him, Bo’s skin was extremely warm, almost hot.  “Does it hurt?”

I shook my head.

He walked his fingertips all along my jaw and chin.  I assumed he was inspecting me for injury, but I didn’t really care.  As long as he didn’t stop touching me and looking at me like that, it didn’t matter what he was doing.

“I thought he’d really hurt you,” he confessed, his lips thinning angrily.

“I thought so, too.”

“He’s lucky I didn’t—”  He stopped himself on a growl.

I wanted to smile at his reaction, but I didn’t.  Instead I asked, “So, what happened?”

Bo shrugged.  “You fell into my arms and I brought you here.”

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. 

“I kinda figured that out on my own.  I meant what happened with Drew?”

“Well, after I convinced him not to put his hands on you—ever—he just stood there and watched me carry you off.”

“Convinced?”

Bo nodded nonchalantly.  I was afraid to ask about specifics; I was pretty sure I didn’t want the details.  I just hoped he didn’t pulverize Drew.  That would be adding another insult to his already injured pride, and I had enough to feel guilty about.

“Thanks for not taking me home.”  I looked away from his too-keen eyes when I said, “If my mom had been there, it would have been a disaster.”

Most likely, she wouldn’t even have been home, and even if she had been, she’d probably have been too drunk to notice or care what shape my face was in.  The disaster would’ve been in Bo seeing that my mom is a lush.

“I’d say ‘my pleasure,’ but if I’m gonna carry you to my bed, I’d much rather you be conscious,” he said with a wry quirk of his lips.

I felt the blood rush to my cheeks, not in embarrassment, but in pleasure.  Just the thought of Bo carrying me to his bed and laying me down on the thick black comforter was enough to raise my blood pressure to stroke level.

I wondered if maybe he was thinking the same thing because, as I watched, the dark, dark brown of his eyes disappeared behind the widening blackness of his pupils.

With a quick shake of his head, Bo cleared his throat and looked away.  “So I guess it’s time I take you home, huh?”

I couldn’t say no, no matter how much I wanted to.  “I guess so.”

Bo stood and held out his hand.  “Come on,” he said, tipping his head toward the door.

I slipped my hand into his.  The room was so chilly, the warmth of his skin felt heavenly.  I rose, letting him lead me out the door and down the hall.

We stopped just inside the doorway to a tiny yellow kitchen.  “You met Mom, right?”  His mother turned from the sink to smile at me.

“I introduced myself to her,” she said, smiling.  Then, to me, “Are you feeling better?”

 “Yes, ma’am.  Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.  Come back any time,” she offered kindly, turning back to the sink.

Bo tugged on my arm and we left through a door off the kitchen.  It led to a back porch where a washer and dryer sat to one side and a huge trunk-style freezer sat to the other.  The exit from that room led to the back yard, which was apparently where the driveway ended, as there was an old blue Volvo station wagon parked right in front of the door.

“Mom’s car,” he announced, as if by way of explanation.  “She works nights.”

He opened the passenger door and then closed it once I was safely inside.  When he slid behind the wheel, I asked, “Does she have to work tonight?”

“Yeah.”

“Is she going to be late?”

Bo shrugged.  “Just a little, but she already called.  It’s no big deal.”

Great!  What a way to make a first impression on his mother.

 The trip home went by way too quickly.  Much to my surprise, Bo didn’t live very far from me at all.

When he pulled into the driveway, Mom’s car was already there, which was a shocker.  

“Here we are,” I said, turning to Bo.  “Thanks again for…well, everything.”

“So, do you mind my asking what happened with you and Connors?”

I smiled at the scathing way he said Drew’s last name.  “We broke up,” I answered simply.

“Why?”

My smile died.  The way he said it made it sound almost like a complaint, like something he couldn’t understand. 

I tried to sound casual.  “Things change.  Feelings change, that’s all.”

“Good.  I didn’t want it to have anything to do with me.”

For some unfathomable reason, that hurt. 

“I’m not good for you, Ridley.  Not like I should be, not like you need me to be.”

I was confused.  He acted as if he really liked me, but now, here he was trying to convince me that he’s not right for me again.

“Don’t worry,” I said, opening the car door.  “It had nothing to do with you.”